


Catharsis

by God_of_Doors



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Altmer - Freeform, Ancano makes a brief appearance, Catharsis, College of Winterhold - Freeform, Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:07:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23242252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God_of_Doors/pseuds/God_of_Doors
Summary: Meredil wasn't ready to be confronted by Ancano about his time with the Thalmor. Thankfully Caliendor is the type of professor who can't stand to see someone upset.
Relationships: Caliendor/Meredil
Kudos: 10





	Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters are mine. Caliendor belongs to VideoDame ([Tumblr](https://volzaannir.tumblr.com/), [AO3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VideoDame/)) and Meredil belongs to [Bonestrewncrest](https://bonestrewncrest.tumblr.com). Writing them was a blast, guys. Thank you for letting me borrow these precious mer.

Caliendor fiddled with the edge of the bandages on his arm as he neared the Hall of Countenance. He wouldn’t take them off until he was safely inside his room, but he’d wrapped them a little too tightly that morning and hadn’t gotten a chance to fix it all day, so they were itchy and annoying and he was eager to get them off. Just as he was about to open the door, an angry voice somewhere behind him grabbed his attention, and he turned.

“--ungrateful coward to simply throw away everything you’d been given!”

Ancano had cornered Meredil against a column and was berating him about something. Caliendor had his suspicions as to what, but frankly the subject didn’t matter to him, and he strode over to the other two Altmer. “Was there something you needed, Ancano?” His words dripped with venom, coated with an exceedingly thin veneer of politeness.

The lack of any sort of title or honorific was not lost on the Thalmor operative, and he bristled visibly, but provided his answer with a similar venomous politeness. “Not as such. We were simply discussing a bit of shared history, something I don’t believe involves yourself. Now, if you’ll excuse us…”

The mild panic on Meredil’s face intensified as Ancano made to turn back to him, and Caliendor shot out a hand to grab Ancano’s shoulder. Ancano stiffened, rage filling his features, but Caliendor held fast. “Actually, there was something I rather needed to discuss with Meredil here. I’m sure the Arch-Mage has been greatly missing your advice while you’ve been out here engaging in idle chit-chat. Perhaps you’d better get back to your duties.”

“How dare you imply--”

Caliendor let the slightest pulse of shock magic shoot from his palm, directly into Ancano’s shoulder, barely enough to sting, but enough to distract him from his sentence. The smile never left his face.

Ancano raised his head and sniffed, tugging his shoulder from Caliendor’s grasp. “As you say,” he said. “We’ll finish this discussion later,” he shot at Meredil, and then strode back to the Hall of the Elements with as much dignity as he had left.

Cal watched him go to make sure he didn't turn around. The parasite was likely to take some kind of complaint about Cal's interference directly to the Arch-Mage, which in turn could possibly lead to Cal getting an official reprimand, but he wasn't worried. He'd been "reprimanded" several times before and knew perfectly well that all it involved was about an hour of drinking with Savos and complaining to each other about Ancano, with the agreement that he had to at least try to look grumpy the next time Ancano saw him. He looked forward to it actually. 

Only once Ancano was out of sight did Cal turn back to Meredil. “Are you alright?”

Meredil looked right on the edge of a panic attack, eyes wide and wild, and visibly trembling. He stared after Ancano until Cal moved so that his body was blocking the view to the door, and Meredil's eyes trailed upwards, locking on Caliendor's face. Cal’s heart clenched at the distraught expression there, the scarred flesh covering most of the right side of his face notably blotchier than the relatively unmarred skin on the left.

“Come on,” he offered instead of waiting for a response. He backed away slightly and extended a hand in invitation. “Let me make you some tea or something.”

Meredil swallowed visibly and nodded, the experience apparently having rendered him mute for the moment. He didn’t take Caliendor’s hand, but followed closely behind with his head down as Cal led him through the Hall of Countenance to his quarters. “Have a seat, please.” He indicated the chair against the wall when Meredil just stopped awkwardly in the doorway, but Meredil didn’t seem to hear him, and just stared blankly at the floor.

Abandoning the thought of tea for the moment, Cal stepped a little closer, his hand making an aborted motion towards Meredil’s arm. He’d seen the way Meredil would start and shy away from close contact with others at the college, but that didn’t stop the protective instinct screaming at him to fold the other mer into a strong hug until he stopped trembling.

Meredil’s eyes tracked Cal’s hand, and Cal realized abruptly that just because Meredil couldn’t voice his thoughts at the moment didn’t mean that Cal was restricted to gestures as well. “May I touch you?”

Meredil hesitated, then gave a small but intense series of nods. Cal gently placed his hand on the back of Meredil’s arm just below his shoulder, and suddenly the dam burst. Meredil slammed his face into Cal’s chest hard enough to knock the wind from him, but Cal remained steadfast, now wrapping both arms around Meredi’s shoulders and pressing his face into his hair.

Meredil was sobbing and talking now, though Caliendor couldn’t understand a damn word, so he just murmured comforting nonsense back until the initial onslaught died down, and he began to be able to pick out words here and there. 

“… didn’t mean… the Thalmor and I… to find out… bother you…”

Caliendor pulled back a little, hoping that Meredil would see the sincerity on his face in his peripherals. “It’s no bother at all. Though… I admit I really didn’t hear most of what you said just now.”

Meredil didn’t reply, and they just stood there until the hiccoughs slowed a little.

“Let’s sit on the bed, okay?”

Meredil nodded against Caliendor’s chest, so Cal guided him further into the room and sat beside him on the edge of the bed, barely loosening his grip around his shoulders.

“You smell nice.”

The highly unexpected statement drew a surprised laugh from Caliendor. “Well, thank you. I try.” He watched with amusement as Meredil’s ears went from golden with a pink hue to rivaling the red of a snowberry. “Would you… ah, like some tea now?”

Meredil sniffed and nodded as he pulled back, then he saw the dampness across the front of Caliendor’s robes, and his face went so red Cal was mildly concerned for his health. “I’m sorry, I… Gods, I’m so sorry!” He made to try to wipe it away, as if that would have done anything, but Cal pushed his hands away.

“Don’t worry. It’s fine. You’re fine.” Meredil tucked his hands between his knees and lowered his head, but Cal took Meredil’s chin in his hand and lifted his face up, tucking a lock of stray hair behind his ear. “I’m always here for you to come cry on, alright? I promise, I do not mind.”

Meredil gaped at him, unmoving, unblinking, and a stray image of a Dwemer automaton that had had its soul gem removed drifted across Caliendor’s mind. He smiled, a little awkwardly this time, and let his hand drop from Mere’s chin. He hurried through the tea making process, and soon had two warm cups in his hands. He came back to the bed and held one out to Mere, finally managing to break him out of his trance.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

“Of course. Now, do you want to try to tell me again what was going on?”

“I… ” He looked down at his tea. “Yeah.”

Caliendor sat down beside him to listen, but the silence continued to hang between them. Without the rush of pent up emotion, it seemed they were going to need an ice breaker. Cal lifted his tea to his lips, and the familiar but irritating pinch of the bandages near his elbow gave him an idea. It wasn’t the most appealing idea, but he was lacking options, and he really did want to give his arms a chance to breathe.

He cleared his throat and set his tea on the table beside the bed. “Do you mind if, ah… if I take these off?” He toyed with the edge of one of the bandages. “It’s just… the scars are… unpleasant to look at for some people but…” His hand traveled up to tug at a lock of hair, self-consciously twisting it around his finger. “They’re a bit uncomfortable, you know?”

Meredil made a small, high pitched noise and a “go ahead” gesture with his hands. Cal quickly removed the gloves and began unwinding the strips of cloth from his arms, sighing with relief as the cool air hit his skin. He watched Meredil from the corner of his eye. The other Altmer’s eyes were fixated on his arms, tracing along the thin, jagged scars from the edge of his sleeve down to his fingertips.

“It’s beautiful,” Mere whispered, and Cal froze for a moment before forcing himself to carry on.

“It’s… it’s something.”

Mere reached out a hand. “May I?”

Cal flexed his fingers. “Go ahead.”

The reverent way in which Meredil traced feather-light touches along his skin made Cal shiver. After a moment, Meredil looked up with awe in his eyes. “Can I ask?”

So Caliendor told him of his life before the College as a destruction mage, and the storm he’d conjured that permanently scarred his flesh. It was uncomfortable, but he didn’t regret it when in return Meredil was finally able to explain his time with the Thalmor, and his own part in the Great War. It was well after midnight by the time either of them even considered going to bed, but they were able to part ways with a tender hug and the knowledge that they didn’t have to be alone.


End file.
